


A Study in Pine

by Toshi_Nama



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Oh no she's cute, Picnics, Rain Sex, Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27591347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toshi_Nama/pseuds/Toshi_Nama
Summary: Of course it would rain when she wasorderedto go on a picnic hike. Of course.Then again, all's well that ends well, right? A little rain never hurt anyone.
Relationships: Sigrun/Velanna (Dragon Age)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11
Collections: 2020 A Paragon of Their Kind Dragon Age Dwarf Exchange





	A Study in Pine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SarcoLaniar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcoLaniar/gifts).



As soon as she realized the only outfit she had clean was the one that ‘mysteriously’ shrunk, Velanna was certain the picnic was going to be a disaster. Beyond the obvious reasons of her fellow Warden being both far too brightly cheerful for such a grey morning and much,  _ much  _ too attractive, it was going to end in disaster.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Because you threatened to set Oghren’s beard on fire while providing Anders with his own facial tattoos, and the Commander thought you might actually be serious this time,” came the bright response from her shoulder. “I figured you could use a chance to get out of the Keep for a while, and she agreed.”

“Oh.”

Her last hope for something was swallowed by the heavy air around them. Of course. Why would she have hoped for anything different? Just because Sigrun laughed and teased didn’t mean anything. She did that with everyone - well, almost everyone. Even with that odious shem.

Dirthamen take her, her mouth opened. “So you’re just following orders.”

Even she could hear the bitter edge in her voice, beyond the sharpness she’d honed over years of being discounted, dismissed, and badgered by Clan and shems alike.

Sigrun, walking alongside her while the path was wide enough, sighed. “That’s not...look…nevermind. I’ll just…”

Seven paces later, Velanna drug herself out of the pit of hopeful expectations to mutter “Sorry.” Thanks once again to her big mouth, the rest of the morning was silent, without her companion’s cheerful comments on the funny shaped rock to their left, or the scolding of the jay above them in her nest, or the one tiny ray of light peeking out from behind the clouds.

When the skies decided to stop threatening rain and deliver it, that was just...perfect. The untamed locks of her hair were now plastered to her face, the ground oozing between her toes because of  _ course  _ she’d decided to wear sandals rather than boots. She had to challenge the weather, the way she challenged everything else.

She glanced over and down to see if this was what would make Sigrun truly regret having offered to help her, and snapped her head to see said dwarf, her eyes on...well,  _ her  _ rather than the path.

“What?”

Sigrun didn’t snap. No, she blushed, the faint rose peeking between the stark black of her brand, and stumbled over a root. Velanna stuck out her hand and grabbed the other woman’s arm, keeping her from falling. Poor thing - her wet shirt was cold under Velanna’s fingers, and were those  _ goosebumps?  _

She unfastened the throat of her mantle and wrapped it around Sigrun’s shoulders. “You’ll catch your death,” she tested. Without the mantle, any last shred of modesty was  _ gone  _ from this particular outfit. The fabric scarcely covered her breasts, creeping up in thin shoots to wrap over her shoulders, and it had long since receded from her hips. Her thick stockings provided some warmth, but even they were losing the struggle against the added weight of the cold rain.

“Thanks.” That was all Sigrun managed to squeeze out before her eyes grew to a remarkably large size.

Velanna looked around. They were going to need something more, because the dwarven Warden was nowhere near as comfortable with the wild vagaries of nature as she herself was. “There.”

‘There’ became her destination - a tall pine with a sweeping skirt of branches. No sign of disease, this was one of the giant elders of the wood, heavy with thick needles. Ignoring Sigrun’s uncertainty, she pushed one aside, revealing the shadowed and  _ dry  _ inner sanctum.

“Oooooh.”

She watched Sigrun now, as the other woman looked around, brushing a finger against the gnarled bark of a branch, scuffing her toe at the blanket of spent needles covering the ground, and then straight up to see the lattice of branches providing their shelter. It wasn’t tall enough for  _ her  _ to stand straight, but for Sigrun?

“There. We can get dry here. Though our wet things are going to slow it down.” She blinked at her own words. Was she  _ really  _ implying what she’d just stated, especially given Sigrun hadn’t done this out of friendship, but obligation?

“I brought a blanket - little one, but it’s here. And…” the dwarf’s voice trailed off as she pulled out the first package from her bag, dark with damp patches. “Well, maybe lunch is still good? Or can you magic out the water?”

“No, that’s ridiculous.” Velanna bit her tongue. “Magic doesn’t work that way,” she continued, unable to apologize but unwilling to leave things like that. “I can’t make things just disappear.”

“Oh.”

Sigrun shivered again, even with Velanna’s bearskin mantle. It was the damp, plus the fact the woman’d only started experiencing things like weather this year. The fall chill  _ was  _ present, a fact certain parts of her demonstrated, but at least she was used to it. Velanna considered, and then stood carefully to start pulling off some of the deadwood.

“What are you doing?”

She ignored the question, knowing she’d have an answer in just a moment. When she stacked the branches, circled a narrow ward around her chosen place, then called fire, the dwarf sighed happily.

“Oooh, that’s much better.” Sigrun scooted as close as possible to the glowing circle. “And it  _ does  _ move out the water.”

Velanna barked a laugh. She supposed it did, even if she hadn’t thought of the question in that fashion. They split the soggy lunch, glad for something to eat even if it wasn’t perfect.

“Did you really do this because you were told to?”

Sigrun kept her eyes on the fire. “No,” she said, her voice husky and soft. “I’m the one who suggested it to the Commander because I wanted...I mean, you don’t get to come out here much, and I like it, and you’re pretty when you smile.”

“I…”

Now it was her turn to flush just a little. She hadn’t realized, hadn’t even noticed. That is, unless she was misreading the entire situation. Sigrun was a cheerful person who had a gift dealing with people - everything Velanna  _ wasn’t. _

Sigrun shivered again.

That was a problem she could deal with. “You’re still cold. You need to get out of your wet things, and I’ll hang them on a branch over the fire.”

“You’re cold, too.”

She was - and the Creators knew that as comfortable as her robe was, ‘shrunken in the wash’ and then glued to her by cold rain wasn’t a good combination. Well, easy enough solution. With a challenging look at her companion, she stuck one leg out and started pulling down her leggings.

Sigrun started working on her boots, paying remarkably close attention to the laces, as Velanna started fiddling with her own. In her case, the things were glued tight by the rain and just how much the fabric had crawled into itself. “Fenhedis,” she swore.

Then she looked up to see that boots weren’t the only thing Sigrun had removed.

When her companion’s eyes caught her own, Velanna didn’t try to look away. Was she interested? Yes. The dwarf was compact and muscular, her curves as steady and appealing as a riverbank.

“Need some help?”

“I wouldn’t object,” Velanna replied, trying to remember how flirting was  _ supposed  _ to work. Then she felt Sigrun’s fingers between her breasts, teasing at the lace - and when that wasn’t enough, a warm pair of lips wound up on either side of it so she could bring teeth to bear as well. By the time the lace surrendered, Sigrun’s hands had explored far more than just the knot, and Velanna had returned the favor, ghosting over damp, pebbled skin.

**

Back at the Keep that night, Velanna tried not to wonder what was going to happen that evening. She also kept her eyes firmly on her plate, even with Sigrun sitting at her left elbow.

The dwarf took a breath, sniffing deeply.

“What is it?”

“You smell like pine,” came the oh-so-innocent response.

Velanna blushed.


End file.
